Not Like Anybody Else
by Man-lovingFeminist
Summary: A short piece.  A little something I would enjoy.  Hope you do.
1. Chapter 1

**Caveat: I know absolutely nothing about surgery. Hope you enjoy anyway : )**

"Scalpel!" Was there any better feeling in the world than that moment right before cutting into a chest? Cristina didn't think so. . . . Well, maybe great sex was a little better. Really great, mind-blowing sex. With Owen. But it was in the top three at least.

Cristina couldn't prevent the little smile she made every time she made the initial cut. One long, deep, steady incision. It wasn't that she didn't care about the patient. She did. And it wasn't that her ultimate goal was her own gratification. Despite what some people said, she wouldn't do this if she didn't think it was saving someone. But there was nothing to beat the satisfaction she got from knowing she was the one with the skill to work what less than a century ago would have been called a miracle. The way her mind and her hands and her instincts came together in a few transcendentally perfect hours. The beautiful mechanics of it.

See, that was what Owen never truly got. Yes, he loved surgery and "fixing" things. And he was great at it. He was the best trauma surgeon Seattle Grace ever had. (Hell, Cristina could never be with someone who wasn't the best.) But for him it was almost entirely about the saving. He probably could have found happiness if he had chosen to be a fireman. Sure, he understood that she really LOVED the actual surgery part. But he didn't really _feel _that in quite the same way.

This was the feeling she never wanted to let go of. Why the last weeks had been the source of so much anxiety. She never wanted to lose that. It was too much of who she was and wanted to be. She wasn't like anyone else. Since she had first told Owen that a lifetime ago he had said it back to her often enough: "You are not like anyone else." When they were at their most intimate, on occasion in comic exasperation. And during those recent, painful but necessary and difficult discussions.

And after all that, after those conversations – some angry, some tearful, some desperate, here she was. As she opened the patient's chest and the exposed the heart, Cristina knew this was exactly where she should be. Ready to fix this gorgeous, damaged machine. Taking the lead on a valve replacement – now this was the life. ? Pig, of course. Somehow her patients always chose the pig. She felt a flutter of excitement. She never felt better.

The surgery continued, with only the smooth rhythm of the heart-lung machine and her occasional instructions to Nurse Bohki and the terrified intern breaking the silence.

"Okay, take him off bypass, slowly on my count." Cristina felt proud. She had sown the new valve back on perfectly. Another perfect . . .

Then the words that brought dread to all surgeons, "Dr. Yang, his pressure is dropping." Shit! What the fuck? Everything looked fine. Damn – there was blood starting to pool. "Number 17.1 – yes, you – more sponges over here, I need to see where the bleeding is coming from." Where _was_ the blood coming from?

_Did I knick another vessel somehow? _

Dammit, she really didn't want to have to call Teddy over from her corner for help. She was sure her technique had been flawless.

_What am I missing? Another damaged part of the heart? . . . . A tear? _Cristina felt a strong flutter in her stomach. "Is that it, a tear?" she whispered half to herself and half to . . . "Where, I can't see . . . wait, could it be the back of the aorta?" The flutter in her stomach felt stronger, almost as though it were a kick. Cristina lifted up the aorta and viewed the underside. The main vessel must have had the beginnings of a tear even before surgery – something virtually undetectable and likely fatal at some point.

An hour later, after she and Dr. Altman had stabilized the patient, repaired the torn aorta and ensured the new valve was intact, Cristina stood alone in the scrub room. She paused a moment, looked down and in a quiet voice said, "Good call kid. You and I just might make a terrific team. You're pretty amazing for something the size of a canteloupe. You're definitely not like anybody else."


	2. Chapter 2

_He had driven her to the appointment. Even when she had been so sure she knew she couldn't do it at Seattle Grace. He had actually driven her, and she had tried not to look at the whiteness of his knuckles on the steering wheel. _

_And then . . . and then she knew she couldn't get out of the truck. At least not that day. As it turned out, not the next, either. Maybe because it wasn't just "a" baby, an abstract idea or a principle, it was their baby. Half her, half Owen. She hadn't planned it. Hadn't wanted it. But then she hadn't wanted to love Owen, either. "And I don't want to," is how she had made her declaration of love. And yet she had been her happiest with him. And truly herself._

**GAGAGAGAGAGAGA**

"_Are you sure? As much as I want this, you can't do this just for me," Owen had said, both hopeful and worried. "It won't work if you don't think you can be happy."_

"_Let's get one thing straight," Cristina looked up at him. "I'm at a critical point in my career. That means I am not going to be the one ruining my sleep the night before an important surgery when it cries."_

"_I've had lot's of practice with not sleeping. I'll get up. In fact, I bet I can figure out a few soothing tunes on the guitar to lull it back to sleep."_

"_And what if you have an emergency at the hospital?"_

"_We can afford a night nurse."_

"_Night nurses? They have those? Why doesn't everyone do that?" Cristina asked incredulously._

_She continued, "And I am NOT breastfeeding. No way am I sneaking out to pump or dribbling in the middle of rounds. I was brought up on a bottle and I'm fine."_

"_So was I. I'm the healthiest person I know."_

"_And if cupcakes need to be made for school functions or birthday parties need to be thrown, you need to figure that stuff out."_

"_That's what grandmothers and Izzies are for."_

_Cristina thought for a moment. "I will, however, love it."_

"_That will be plenty, Cris."_

**GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGA**

It happened again during surgery. A moment's hesitation to contemplate her next step when a minor complication presented itself. That same flutter in her stomach making her next move clear.

"_Hmmm . . . .I may be growing a surgical genius,_" Cristina couldn't prevent herself from thinking. "Maybe if I clamp that end and . . . yeah, I think so, too."

"WHO are you talking to? Alex looked at her. "You're not going senile are you?"

"Just shut it, Karev"

Cristina whispered once more, to no one in particular "You think – that new technique will work here?" A strong flutter.

"Cause you're not talking loud enough for me to hear and you kinda look like you're having a conversation."

"Just - just leave it alone," Cristina responded forcefully.

"It's almost like . . . .

Cristina's arm involuntarily went to her stomach.

"Oh, please don't tell me - the baby? Tell me you're not consulting the baby on surgical techniques."

"You seem to forget I'm in the possession of an extremely sharp instrument. And if I am indeed getting senile, you'd better humor me until it's safely out of my hands or you may end up regretting opening your big mouth."

Alex shook his head. "Yang. The last person I expected to go wacko."

Cristina looked up as she triumphantly finished her last stitch, "Well this wacko just rocked another surgery."

Alex snickered as he and Cristina scrubbed out. "I can still take you, Karev. So you might want to sit on whatever information you think you have if you value all your body parts and your dignity. "

"Yes ma'am!" Alex replied in mock awe, laughing to himself as he walked out the door. Actually, Cristina's unique situation gave him hope in a strange way. Cristina Yang, pregnant and happy and still badass - something so improbable and unexpected, well maybe there was a chance for him, too. Maybe, one day, he would actually get to be happy. With someone who wouldn't break his heart and who didn't turn out to be completely nuts.

She met Callie for lunch. "So what did you want to meet about? Everything okay? Surgery went well?" Callie asked.

"Yeah, yeah. . . . . So um, Callie, when you were pregnant, did anything . . . odd happen to you?"

"Well, the whole experience can be a little odd. You want to be more specific? I mean I craved hot peppers wrapped in cotton candy. And for a while there I developed entirely new erogenous zones – I mean I told Arizona . . . ."

"Uh yeah – hold it right there. I mean more work-wise. Did it affect your work at all?"

Callie lowered her voice. "Okay, I wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but there were times when my brain may have been just a little fuzzy. I still rocked my surgeries and all, but you know, I was occasionally just the tiniest bit fuzzy. And unexpectedly emotional. The usual stuff you hear."

"Well, actually, I'm not really having a problem with that. It's kind of the opposite. I've never been this focused in my life. In fact, I feel – well, I feel pretty great. I mean strangely great. Like I have some kind of surgical superpowers. Like there's some kind of inner voice guiding me. . . ." Cristina stopped herself, noticing the look Callie gave her when she started talking about the voice.

"Hey, you know everybody's different. I say just count yourself one of the lucky ones and don't worry about it. Enjoy the superpowers."

"Thanks, I will." Cristina would enjoy her newfound superpowers. Just as she was already enjoying her entirely new erogenous zones.

Only one other person might have the answer.

"Yang, you wanted to see me?" asked Bailey.

"Yes. Dr. Bailey. As one professional to another, just wanted a little consult on possible . . . well extraordinary side effects your pregnancy may have had. You know, I just like to be prepared."

"Oh . . . well, if you're a talking about those unexpected new erogenous . . . "

" ah ah – hold it right there. No. Definitely not. Just wondered how your - lets just say – surgical focus was affected."

"Well, you know, I felt pretty good most of the time. Got a little tired. But, hey, I'm Bailey. Pretty damn awesome most of the time. Didn't feel my focus was diminished at all by my pregnancy if you're worried."

"Good, that's good. . . . But no, um, more like a kind of "enhanced" focus?"

"What? Like a surgical superpower?" Bailey teased.

"What? Has Karev been . . . . ."

"I see things. Don't worry, Yang. It's all good. Just take it, enjoy it."

"Thanks. " Cristina felt a sense of relief.

Bailey made her way out of the door as she threw back, "As long as the baby isn't actually giving you surgical advice, I'd say it's all good."

_I'm going to freakin kill Karev, _Cristina thought.

**GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGA**

Dr. Yang-Hunt took a deep breath as she surveyed the scene before her. Her first day as attending. The retiring chief had just come to give her his congratulations and support.

She looked down as her cell vibrated. "Mom," she laughed to herself. Her mother did her best to give her room and not meddle in her career, but even the strongest mother couldn't be expected to keep her distance on a monumental day like today. "Dr. Yang-Hunt speaking," she answered in her most professional voice.

"There's still a chance for you to come on over from the dark side," her mother's voice mockingly scolded. "I've just finished up the most amazing quadruple bypass and the guy's scar is so small you would think at most that he fell while running with tiny, tiny scissors. Tell me you're going to get anything so gorgeous in trauma."

The outgoing chief chimed in "You know I can hear you, Cristina. Don't you dare try to steal our newest trauma attending away."

"Hey, no fighting guys," the aforementioned attending answered. "Mom, I have my eyes out for the best cardio emergencies and you are the first one I will page with any really juicy cases."

"Well, okay, Lulu, in that case, I guess I can live with it," Cristina laughed. "So, a celebration dinner? Your dad still makes a mean lasagna."

"You're on." Cristina and Owen's red-haired, badass daughter turned to her father after ending the call. "So now that you're retiring, you gonna try to get Mom to join you?"

"You know very well, I wouldn't dare try to pry that scalpel out of her hands before the 40 years are up. Still a few to go yet before your mom gets anything close to dinosaury."

Lulu looked at the crowded ER and then at her father with seriousness. "You really think I can handle all this on my own?"

"Absolutely. You'll do brilliantly. You're not like anybody else.


End file.
